I Am A Piano
by Midnight Ghost
Summary: A lonely piano's journey with one professor of the piano to another.


_**I Am A Piano**_

**Summary**: A lonely piano's journey with one professor of the piano to another.

**Couple**: Light EriolxTomoyo

Found this idea from a short mini-manga. Really touching, should try to read.

Disclaimer: I do not own CCS, or I Am A Piano. (The manga.)

-o-

I am a piano. I was made by Clow Reed Piano section, with a big white and black striped bow on my head and a simple yet elegant dress with ruffles made of the same fabric, but more black. Black stockings and white shoes. Long, flowing black hair and black eyes with flecks of purple.

The dress-maker squealed at me when she saw me.

"You're so cute! If you weren't so expensive I would whisk you away!"

After a demo test at the store the first place I was taken to was-

-a home.

Filled to the brim with children.

First, I was confused, but soon, after watching the children grow, the kids who couldn't reach my shoulders now are all grown up and taller than I, makes me feel feel happy, strangely.

My favorite was the oldest, who played like magic.

But soon, a new piano came. Short white hair with a bow which had thick white stripes and thin black stripes with a mostly white dress with white eyes which had, strangely, flecks of green.

A war broke out after that. The ballroom which I played in was used as storage for ammunition, and then I moved to-

-a bar.

For soldiers.

There, a brown-haired, caramel eyed, and a cold exterior military officer often played jazz with me. He usually played rough, and many a night was spent sulking after hours on the hard, illuminated dance floor.

Then, one day, a young, yet talented man started playing with me. He was so talented, even the military officer asked him if he took lessons. He was that special.

"I want to be a piano teacher," the brown haired, glasses wearing man replied, "But I'm still a student and fighting in the war." He had a kind gaze. With the same green eye color.

The man was good at playing nocturnes. He especially liked Op.9 No.2.

But after that day, he never came back.

That night, the same cold officer played waltz instead of jazz. Op.69 No.1

The Farewell Waltz.

I had tears in my eyes that night.

Finally the war ended and the army left the city soon after.

"I'm going to stay and open a jazz club," he said to me when I asked if he was going to go to.

And he did. The military officer became the bartender. He danced with me songs that were requested.

Jazz, classical, blues, latin, folk, military songs, praise songs.

Again, one day, a parting came again.

"My father was fallen ill and I'm going back to help my mother." The now kind officer patted my head with a smile. Tears sprung into my eyes.

"The time has come for us to say goodbye. I'll miss your lovely tone." And with that, he left.

I had one last night to cry on the same, cold, and now hard dance floor before being taken to-

-the city's school.

More correctly, it's concert hall.

It was a huge hall, filled with lights and people.

I remember a young boy entering the stage. He took my hand.

If I tilted my head down slightly, and he up, we could make eye contact in those blue, blue eyes of his. He had blue hair, and wore round glasses. He wore an important suit, made to impress.

We both lifted one leg, and began.

The song was Chopin's Grand Polonaise Brillante, Op.22.

Then, every week from then there were solos recitals, and music competitions.

Sometimes the young man, which I now remember as Hiiragizawa Eriol, came and played more pieces. I always felt myself waiting for his comings and goings. But mainly the comings.

But I also played different tunes with different pianists as well.

Then finally-

-I became a very worn out piano. There were a few stray strings were in the dress, the back bow was halfway pulled out, one sock was slipping off, and a shoe was going to fall off.

I was moved inside a moving van to the countryside, which I found-

-Eriol.

"Thank you very much for coming all the way here." His voice has gotten deeper.

"Are you sure you want this piano? It's very old." I stare at the man who said it.

"This piano," he lightly pulls my face towards him, "Is filled with many of my most precious memories."

I feel tears spilling down. The mover people go back in their van and drive home, leaving me with Eriol.

"You have certainly come a long, haven't you- Tomoyo?" I smile, the tears still falling down.

The first piece he played with me from then was Chopin's Grand Polonaise Brillante, Op. 22. He has improved greatly from last time.

But he still gently plays, with no worries at all, and kisses my hand, just like before.

I smile.

-o-

Here's an explanation: Tomoyo is the piano.

Pianos were either the ones we know now, or human figures, and to get the song out, you had to dance with it. Obviously you know which one's more expensive.

Don't worry, many pianists have fallen in love with their pianos before, so Eriol's not an oddball!

Tomoyo will grow taller, eventually. It just takes her time.

-o-

Yay! Finished in record time!

So how do you like that?

I bet you can't guess the characters in the story! Each person who guesses right gets: A cookie!

Good Luck!

Oh yes, this story will become a part of and instrument series. Look out!

Ciao.


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